The Question
by LoonyLuiny
Summary: Gimli questions his feelings for an annoying yet growingly intriguing elf. My first fanfic on here!


Gimli was not alone. He could sense the presence of the elf before any sound reached his ears, so naturally silent was he. He glanced up from where he sat sharpening his ax and, sure enough, the elf stood in the doorway, watching him. The familiar feeling of disgust, and something else he refused to pay attention to, washed over Gimli. Ever since the fateful day he had decided to join the hobbit on his quest, the elf had watched him. Of course, it could just be caution, understandable given the natural enmity between the two races, but Gimli could not shake the feeling that that growing look of...something...in the elf's eyes, something that mirrored his own hidden feelings, meant something much more.

"What do ye want, elf?" He asked, gruffly. The elf paused a moment before answering, tilting his head to the side so his soft blonde hair fell across his smooth, hairless cheek.

"I am trying to decide that."

Waiting around in this blasted elven city was wearing on all the dwarves, but Gimli most of all. He and the elf Legolas had formed a deep enmity, despite moments, usually when one happened on the other alone, where they almost seemed to find a mutual respect. It wasn't only the elves grace and elegance, which, while Gimli didn't envy the elf, made him feel uncouth and unkempt. It was the constant jests, snide jabs, and the amused glances that got to him. Perhaps it was what spurred him on to decorate his beard with, for him, elaborate braids and beads, and wear some of his finer clothing. Not for the elf of course. Never for him.

It was for the elf. Gimli burned with conflicting shame and excitement, as he sat alone under the stars and acknowledged, finally, what had been growing between them. His own growing desire, the blushes he could not disguise behind his bushy red beard. He could no longer hide from himself his own reaction to Legolas' grace, poise, and beauty. To make matters even worse was that knowing, smug look in the elf's eyes! He huffed a sigh of frustration, and heard an answering sound behind him. He turned, to see the object of his thoughts standing, still as a statue between two trees. His serene expression showed nothing of what he was thinking, and he only watched Gimli. Gimli shifted uncomfortably under the gaze.

"Well?! If ye want to join me, ye can. Ye've no need to ask." He turned away again, to hide how much he now hoped the elf would take him up on his rather gruff offer. He waited a long moment, but there was no sound, and his shoulders slumped slightly.

Then, a stirring beside him. He turned to see Legolas elegantly fold himself into a cross-legged position at Gimli's side. Immediately Gimli felt the combination of annoyance and attraction that overcame his good sense whenever he saw the elf. He forced himself to be silent, lest he say something offensive and drive Legolas away. He studied the elf's profile with new eyes, his realization of his true feelings for someone he had viewed almost as an enemy. The sunlight seemed echoed in those beautiful, clear eyes, his long silver-gold hair hung in perfect sweeps of shimmering reflected moonlight down his back. His face so well-formed, and…

…and so unlike what a dwarf should find attractive. He sighed again, without realizing, and Legolas turned to him. With that clear gaze directed at him now, Gimli squirmed uncomfortable, feeling the blush rise into his cheeks. Legolas said nothing, but then, his hand reached out, and he plucked a stray leaf from Gimli's thick, bushy beard.

"The braids suit you, dwarf."

Gimli's heart raced, and his blush deepened. "Aye. Too much time spent among elves." He'd meant to make it a retort, but some of the gruffness was lost from his voice. Legolas reached out again, but now his hand rested on Gimli's neck. Legolas watched him, his head to one side, a thoughtful look on the beautiful planes of his face.

"I find myself curious about you, Gimli, son of Gloin," he said at last. "I feel I misjudged you upon first meeting. And now I find myself growing more and more attracted to you."

Gimli's lungs froze, his heart stopped beating. The world stopped turning. He gaped like a freshly caught fish, the words stuck in his throat. Finally he managed to stutter out a few fragmented beginnings: "I…ye…d'ye really mean that, elf?"

Legolas watching for a few moments, reading what he saw in his face, then his hand on the back of his neck tightened, and his lips crashed down onto Gimli's. He kissed the dwarf passionately, then slowed, only tasting his lips gently, feeling the rasp of Gimli's beard on his own smooth cheeks, and waited until he felt the dwarf's response. Gimli's hands came up, and grabbed handfuls of Legolas' previously perfect hair, and he kissed him with a responding flame. After several minutes, Legolas pulled back.

"Yes, dwarf. I mean it."

"Then I'll have ye, elf." And Gimli tackled the elf into the leaves, and all of Legolas' smooth perfection and elegance were thoroughly, thoroughly rumpled.


End file.
